


Love is forever (but time ticks on)

by Deeambles



Series: Pool noodles and other assorted floaties [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel, but today!!! the day im posting is their bdays!!!, happy bday izu and obito!!, not sure on other character or relationships yet so uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeambles/pseuds/Deeambles
Summary: He bets Kakashi is laughing his ass off at him from the pure world— this is what he gets, he thinks, when you try to play god, you repent by fixing their fucking problems.Fucking sage of six paths his ass, can’t even get rid of a no-good Venus fly trap.





	1. when I was older

**Author's Note:**

> I started this last august and haven't touched it and only finished the first chapter because today is Obito and Izuna's Birthday and I figured it was appropriate considering this will one day be an Izuna/Obito fic. one day,,,,
> 
> not sure when this will update again as I don't really know what I wanna do with that thing called plot lmao someone shoot me i should of just wrote a porn snippet like everyone else. 
> 
> as always, I hope you enjoy

Izuna, Obito decides, is so much scarier than Madara ever managed to be and someone should have really warned him before he got himself flung back in time.

Really, the threatening yet polite smile Izuna keeps giving him is going kill him and it’s a good thing he’s already been exposed to Sakura’s- and man who would have ever thought he would miss anything to do with Bakashi’s brats- that he hasn’t self-combusted under it yet. 

Come to think about it, even Sakura’s wasn’t this chilling. Of course, the few times it was there was usually a fist involved, so he thinks he can be forgiven for wanting to get the hell away. 

Obito adjusts his eyepatch, the one over the rinnegan, and tries to ignore the feeling that he’s wasting time. He has things to do and there’s discontentment _everywhere_. The Uchiha outside who would rather keep fighting the war. Madara and Hashirama, who don’t seem to even know what there arguing about anymore. Tobirama, who’s probably just suffering over having to say he’s related to Hashirama. And then, Izuna, who— well. Doesn’t seem discontent, but definitely isn’t happy about this one eyed, Mokuton using, Uchiha crash landing straight into one of the Senju-Uchiha skirmishes. 

Obito wonders idly if that was the one where Izuna got fatally wounded. If so, Izuna owes him, and Obito doesn’t think his luck is good enough to stop Zetsu on his own. He’s from the future, and he’s got all skill sets and prior knowledge, but if he alone could have stopped Zetsu or Kaguya he would have done it already. Obito knows Izuna doesn’t have to be alive for the future to continue, so bringing him into the fold could only be beneficial. However, Obito thinks, risking a glance at a young, young, Madara, there’s no way he can use Izuna and not have him find out. He sighs to himself, it seems Madara is still a problem whether he’s late twenties or a hundred and twenty. 

Obito idly itches at his face again and looks back at Izuna. The man in question is sitting next to his brother, completely immune to the flailing and shouting like he’s got nothing better to do then look right across the table at him. Obito inwardly sighs again and thinks he’s been thrown straight out of the Kaguya infected hell he’d been living in and right into the fucking founders’ era, and it’s Izuna who would have  _definitely_  had an easier time conquering the world had he been given the chance. 

Not that Obito wants to find out, considering he’s been thrown into this mess to stop any psychopaths from taking over the world, but one can’t help but wonder when the ice-cold smile is facing right towards you. 

(Once upon a time he would have aimed one right back but he’s officially back in time and one wrong move could fuck everything up again) 

Avoiding his temper getting the best of him is the best thing he can do and if it means ignoring the not-Sasuke so be it. He side-glances Tobirama- younger than the last time he saw him- but his attention is on Hashirama who is not so subtlety trying to get Madara to stop yelling long enough to get a word into whatever argument their having now. In fact, Izuna is the only one in the whole room not staring at the, admittedly entertaining, theatrics going on. 

He supposes that there’s plenty of suspicion there, but it’s not like he’s going to blurt his back story, or start lecturing them on acceptance of everyone or some other bullshit. He’s not Naruto, and he might have Mokuton, but he’s not Hashirama either. 

Which leads him into the next problem. He can’t exactly say, “hi I’m Obito and I time traveled to save the world”. Since that will ultimately lead him to explaining his whole contribution leading up to Kaguya, which he  _really_  doesn’t want to do. So that leaves him with just mentioning the moon, and Zetsu, and the rinne— actually better to not mention—

A pointedly cleared throat startles him out of his thoughts. 

“Sooo, Obito” Izuna drawls, “I’ve been wondering, where exactly did you come from?” 

oh... _Oh_... this is Not the conversation he wants to have right now. He’s finally tuned into the argument to his right and The whole which-clan-has-rights-over-him (none but he’s not telling them that) conversation isn’t going too hot right now either, and damn it he was all but an orphan, but he tries to draw up some conversation skills that his grandmother taught him about talking to those deemed important and—

“Obito-kun, if you say anything about being a wanderer I’m going to call bullshit”. Izuna says sweetly

Obito can feel the sweat on the back of his neck and fuck fuck fuck he has no excuse for this. This whole thing was a last minute, no, last second, last  _moment_  arrangement. He has no backstory, no cover-up, no explanation but the truth and—

and well the best lies often hold some truth don’t they 

“I wasn’t goin—“ he starts

“Now, now, Izuna-san, there’s no need to be impatient, I’m sure Obito-kun has a very tragic and compelling story to tell but don’t you think we should have dinner first? It’s only polite” 

“Naori-sannn” Izuna whines “you’re supposed to be on my side.” 

Obito has no clue who Naori is but she is a god send and he owes her his life. 

“Tsk, the only one on your side is Tobirama’s sword, brat, now quit whining.” Madara buts in. 

“Really” Tobirama deadpans 

“Yes dinner, what a great idea, then after we can continue talking!” Hashirama all but shouts over Izuna’s snarl. 

“I never said you were invited idiot” Madara snaps back. At Hashirama’s dramatic wilt Naori calmly walks over to slide the shoji screen back and turns,” don’t be mean Madara-sama, there’s enough food that’s been set up for everyone in the private hall at the elder’s request.”

Obito thinks that’s probably because the elders want Madara to off Hashirama and Tobirama while they’re playing house in the Uchiha compound. Judging by Madara’s glance at Naori and Izuna’s slight role of eyes he’s guessing he’s absolutely right. 

Ah elders, really the one constant no matter what time period you’re in. 

“Fine, fine.” Madara grumbles as he stands “let’s go, the faster this is resolved the faster you get out of my hair”

“That’s mean, Madara. You wouldn’t really kill me in cold blood, would you?” Hashirama pouts 

Oh good, the Senju noticed the subtle death threat from the esteemed ones too, this dinner is going all kinds of fucking awkward, Obito thinks, as he rises to go to the private dining hall. 

He bets Kakashi is laughing his ass off at him from the pure world— this is what he gets, he thinks, when you try to play god, you repent by fixing their fucking problems. 

Fucking sage of six paths his ass, can’t even get rid of a no-good Venus fly trap. 

At least he gets to pound that two-faced bastard into the ground and then maybe Kumai him to the sun or something. 

He’ll figure it out. He has to. 

 

The dining hall is surprisingly spacious, with a couple of large North facing windows to avoid any harsh sunlight. The table is set already and Naori politely bows and closes the door behind them. It’s a shame, he would have rather sat next to her, but so far he’s been stuck with only the main family. It’s not something he ever had as a kid and he already wants to be done with it. 

Obito always got along with the rejects, after all. 

Once he truly recognizes who he’s looking at, he takes back everything he ever thought about Izuna taking over the world with ease. As long as Uzumaki Mito is alive nobody- Zetsu included - is taking over anything. Hell, why did he even bother coming back when he could have just revived her?

Not that he would have ever found her body, they don’t mark high level shinobi graves and by the end, there were no markers at all and the ground and earth was Zetsu’s domain, any disturbances and well, 

The scar along his right forearm throbs at the reminder

Weak he thinks- can’t be weak. Not in front of these people, not in front of that stupid plant and when he finally dies, not even front of the Shinigami itself. 

He’s saving the world again he thinks grimly. Except this time, it’s a little less Mad- no- Kaguya’s way and little more his. And it damn well includes a lot less planning and hell of a lot more flailing, but that’s completely expected considering he was Not expecting Uzumaki fucking Mito, the complete embodiment reminder of what Kushina could of been if her family wasn’t wiped out and she wasn’t raised as a hellion. He has no idea if Madara had to do with that particular downfall too, but he definitely wouldn’t put it past Zetsu. In fact, he’d even bet on it. 

The urge to kamui out only continues to increase as It seems nobody else but Naori was prepared for her considering Hashirama’s not so quiet “oh” upon entering the room. 

Madara isn’t quite rude enough to say anything but his face is clear give away that he didn’t know shit either. 

Before Obito can make good on flinging himself out the window a solid arm wraps around his waist and steers him to plop right down on the right side of Izuna. 

Obito wonders, if not for the first time, if subtlety is something that wasn’t used until after the warring era, or if this particular group of ninjas just don’t give a shit. 

(The answer is the latter of course. When you’re the undisputed strongest shinobi in Fire country, subtlety isn’t something you need to concern yourself with.) 

Regardless, it gives Obito a headache. He wonders if he can use it as an excuse to excuse himself early. As if he can read Obito’s mind, Izuna sends a pointed smile his way that clearly reads  _dream on._  

At least Tobirama also seems like he wants to throw himself out the window. Suffering is better together right? Right.

He does his best to sit proper if only because he heard stories about Uzumaki Mito from Kushina and if there’s anyone he wants to like, it’s her. 

She smiles lightly at him, and Obito manages a little one back. He pointedly ignores Izuna’s slight eyebrow raise at him, as if he didn’t believe Obito could be capable of such a thing. 

The dinner goes like this. 

Obito pretends he’s listening and agreeing to terms to be integrated into the Uchiha family. He has no plan on staying, but apparently, he’s becoming quite the bridge between families here and he can accept this temporary roll if only to fuck with Zetsu. 

Mito brought scrolls of legal business with her for an official ceasefire and they spent an hour deliberating it after eating through more food then he thought the warring era even had access to. 

Tobirama, once again proves why he founded most of Konoha’s functioning systems, coming to agreeable terms between the superpowers at the table named Madara and Hashirama. 

Madara and Hashirama proved themselves to be actually decent at something other than destroying mountains, although this might be because of Mito’s presence. 

Izuna, proves to be quite thoughtful and smart, pointing out some of Tobirama’s unintentional bias. He, Obito muses, probably could have pulled off the revolutions Sasuke wanted, if only because he seems to think before he speaks. Although, it’s clear to see this man loves his family dearly, and it’s no wonder why Madara took his death so hard. 

In the end, dinner doesn’t end disastrous. It does, however, end with Madara and Mito realizing they get on way more than anybody thought they would. Who knew Uchiha and Uzumaki get on like a house on fire. 

 _Kushina_ , Obito can’t help but think, and Mikoto and no No  _No_  don’t think about that Obito. 

Izuna, who is clearly able to read people minds, Obito is  _sure_  okay, swiftly helps Obito to his feet. 

It’s unnecessary and most likely for show and Obito tries to convey how much he doesn’t need help in the pointed look he gives Izuna but— 

It’s not bad. 

His side still aches from where he hit the ground and he knows he can’t actually copy the body language of someone who was raised to lead a clan. To play politics and know every proper cue that even Madara— 

Gods  _Madara_. He can barely connect this flailing, loud, young man to the old fart in the cave. He doesn’t even compare to the reanimated version he knew so well. This one is more determined, and lively, and shares grief, and doesn’t have the sadistic quality Obito associates with him. 

(Obito will never admit out loud because It sits in his gut as a low thing, guilty, because Madara was really the closet thing he had to family but god he hopes that version of him rots in hell.)

Izuna gently guides him from hitting himself on the door frame, and Obito wonders how many of his emotions are playing on his face. 

Oh well. If their too worried about what he’s feeling then they won’t have the time of day to watch what he’s doing. 

And Obito  _will_  be doing things. Saving the world things in particular. Just as soon as he can get out of the gods forsaken Uchiha compound. 

He stares longingly in the direction of the front gates. By his side Izuna snorts and guides him in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naori is a mostly canon character who gets one side appearance in the anime that one time to introduce izanagi and what not but I'm uhhh throwing her in the past and ignoring canon like i do for most of my fics lmaooo sorry not sorry
> 
> also i forgot chapter titles are a thing so chapter titles will be from "When I was older" by Billie Eilish who songs continue to be my new obsession and in this essay i will


	2. I was a sailor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara catches his eyes and continues, “You rarely use the blade, but your care for it is meticulous. I’ve seen you space out from staring at it as well, as if it’s the window to some other world.” 
> 
> He takes pause then, and Obito can’t help but think that Madara fucking Uchiha is about to call him out on time traveling.

It’s been a month. 

One entire fucking month since Obito crashed landed in the warring era. Despite it, Kaguya is still the main center point in all his nightmares. The paranoia that she might just rip through the veil of time and come out just to spite him. 

Sometimes Obito thinks he wouldn’t mind it.  

Other times, he sees the veiled worry that sometimes crosses Madara’s face when Obito emerges from the guest quarters to join them for breakfast. Obito’s eye bags almost match the deep shadows the scars on his face make. 

Other times, it’s Izuna dragging him out to spar when it seems his Sharingan won’t stop showing him images of everyone in their last moment. Naruto, _wind-sunshine-strong_ , cloaked in Kurama’s chakra, defending their tiny group of stragglers. Sakura’s scream of determination before she went out. Sasuke’s mismatched eyes almost as wide as his mouth. Kakashi, Ino, Tenten, Omoi, Kankuro, and the few other civilians they tried so hard to protect. 

Sometimes the weight of being the last is like a knife through the gut and when he wakes up screaming it’s no wonder that even this young Madara, who he still has trouble making eye contact with, shows concern.  

Other times, he wonders why he cares at all, but this Madara hasn’t been betrayed by his family, hasn’t lost his last little brother, hasn’t been manipulated by Zetsu. He’s rough, but kind and brave, and the Uchiha’s love for this young, strong man with the strength to back up his ideals shows in their willingness to fight for him. 

Ultimately, it’s the tipping point in Obito’s decision. For every one of the future that Obito fought for, then betrayed, then failed to save, he must leave. For this young, idealistic Madara, and Izuna who looks like Sasuke but strong will and cunning reminds him of Mikoto, he has to go stop a goddess. He has to destroy the statue. He has to kill Zetsu. 

In the witching hours between one and three, he gets up and changes out of his sleep yukata and prepares to jump through Kamui into the mountains graveyard. 

The quickly scribbled note he leaves on a blank piece of parchment, pinned under the ink pot on the table in the guest room, comes to a surprise to him even after he’s done it and glared at it for a few minutes. 

He picks it back up and puts it back down, crumples and smooths it back out and debates setting it on fire multiple times. 

He’s never left a note before. No one came to his apartment in Konoha. He never bothered to tell Old-Madara or Zetsu he was going somewhere since he lived in the cave while recovering, and then only left for supply runs after. The former died soon after Rin’s death and the latter seemed to always know where he would be anyways, even when he was organizing the downfall of the shinobi world itself. 

Obito tells himself he wrote the stupid note because he’s vital to the ceasefire and leaving the Uchiha without their bargaining tool could mess it up. 

He tells himself this and slams the note down and gets up to grab his shoes that are in the corner of the room. 

 So of course, as Obito is sliding on his shoes, there’s a slight knock at his door, and Izuna’s candle lit face peeks in his room. 

 “Obito? Is everything—“

Izuna pauses, taking in Obito’s bent over form that’s still in the middle of pulling his sandal on, and all Obito can think is  _Shit_. 

He slowly stands up straight, one shoe still half off and clears his throat as Izuna’s face rapidly shades toward amusement and confusion and something more along the lines of,  _really? You were going to jump out the window in the middle of the night_?

Before Obito can come up with some lame excuse, Izuna walks fully in the room, plucks Kakashi’s tanto from his hand and walks back out, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. 

Obito stands there for a second and thinks  _what a fucking bastard_  before sliding his shoe fully on and stomping out because that tanto was Kakashi’s, made in replica of Sakumo’s, and he’s not letting fucking Izuna just pluck it out of his hands and walk away like it’s going to stop Obito from sticking Izuna on the sun. 

Of course, this is when Madara opens his door, either due to Obito’s stomping or Izuna’s light snickering where he sits at the kotatsu, blade pulled from the sheath. 

Obito would like to point out the very unimpressed look Madara is giving him is only freezing him to the floor because the man in question is only in pajama pants and hair pulled into a messy bun. Obito tells himself this and refuses to believe anything else.

Madara, in the meantime, looks over Obito in his fully dressed state and moves passed him to join his little brother, mumbling for Obito to take his shoes off when he’s in the house, and something else that might have been  _were you raised in a barn?_ but for Obito’s skyrocketing blood pressure he pretends he can’t hear it. 

Obito watches as Madara sits down at the kotatsu and takes the tanto from Izuna and looks over the blade. He hums in what might be approval before turning to Obito who’s now standing awkwardly by the kitchen counter and asks if he’s ever going to sit down. 

And... Obito does. 

He slides his shoes back off and sits down next to the Uchiha brothers. One, who in the beginning of his life became the warning that the elders always gave to warn you off loving to deeply. The other, who became another brother who died in a pointless war. 

But now they’re neither. Just two men, the strongest the Uchiha have ever seen up till this point, sitting at a kotatsu at ass-o’clock, like this is the obvious solution to seeing their resident political not-prisoner fully dressed and ready to go. 

Madara slides the tanto back into the sheath and hands it back over to Obito. 

“It’s a nice blade” he starts, clearly trying not to sound amazed, but Obito knows it’s forged with future hands and metal and skill and a blade, no matter how small, this well done is impressive, “it’s not yours though, is it.” 

 It’s not a question but Obito looks up all the same because there’s no way Madara should know that. 

 Madara catches his eyes and continues, “You rarely use the blade, but your care for it is meticulous. I’ve seen you space out from staring at it as well, as if it’s the window to some other world.” 

He takes pause then, and Obito can’t help but think that Madara fucking Uchiha is about to call him out on time traveling. 

 

“Also” he continues and Obito can feel himself start to sweat “your fingers don’t quite match the grip.” 

 

Obito blinks, once, twice and can’t help himself from gaping a little because it’s rapidly approaching 3 am and he’s going to have a heart attack from someone who once put a seal on his heart. 

Izuna snorts. 

“It’s a custom blade, Obito. Anyone with functioning eyes can see that, but your hand doesn’t match the grip and while _someone_ clearly spent a lot of money on this, it wasn’t you. “ 

Izuna pauses, trading glances with Madara. For his credit, Madara gets up then and nods to the two remaining occupants in clear show of going back to bed. 

Izuna continues then, admittedly more softly, “Obito, you haven’t shared anything with us before you showed up out of nowhere, and that’s fine, but you can’t keep everything bottled up or you’re going to explode.” 

The change of topic is blunt but Obito has learned over the past month that everything the two brothers do is that way. 

This doesn’t stop him from wondering on how to respond. Not when Izuna is kind and charismatic, and he’s seen the way the other man interacts with all his kin. It makes it hard, in the face of that to lie, but Obito remembers a month ago in the hall, where Izuna’s face was steely and mistrustful. In the face of that well-

“You don’t have to answer, Obito.” Izuna continues, “just take some of the medication in the top drawer of kitchen, or drink tea, or something.” 

Izuna gets up then, heading back towards his room. 

“Try not to disappear in the middle of the night either” Izuna says grinning over his shoulder, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “if we have to track you down in the morning, Madara will bitch to the Uzumaki Princess and then you’ll never be able to leave that room without a guard.” 

The man snickers and shuts the door leaving Obito siting there alone. He stares down at Kakashi’s tanto and curses to that stupid sage because although he has been fortunate to get as much leeway in the Uchiha compound as possible, that can easily be reversed. If Madara and apparently, Uzumaki Mito, assigns a guard to watch  _Obito_ , Kakashi’s never going let him live it down. 

He stands up and stomps back to his room to let Izuna know just what he thinks of that idea, before shutting the door with just enough force to make it shudder a little. 

Under his dramatics, Obito can feel the way Izuna’s  _sharp-lightning-firestorm_ chakra flutters in amusement. The way Madara’s  _Cinnamon-burnt-Wildfire_ ripples in exasperation. The way the ninja outside who just  _happen_  to be changing guard duty, and who are clearly eavesdropping, the bastards, chakras shudders with mirth. 

 

He thinks, maybe he can stay one more night, and slips his shoes back off. Thinks, Kakashi won’t mind too much, thinks it might just piss Zetsu off that much more. 

 

Obito thinks this and lets the tendrils of uncertainty, guilt, and fear drag him down into unconsciousness and doesn’t let himself regret it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I,, don't like this chapter, or the overall writing of the story. However, spite is my motivator for just about everything and the only way i'm going to get better at writing chaptered fics is by doing it and therefore this fic will remain here with lazy updates till I figure it out. also how to write Obito. which is something that I find surprisingly difficult for me.
> 
> anyways I hope you enjoyed regardless. :)


	3. on an open sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara introduces Obito to their other frequent houseguest. Touka does some information gathering.

Madara storms out of his office with a particular sort of fury that’s usually reserved for when he fights Tobirama on the battle field. 

His feet snap on the ground and he distantly hears the elders starting to yell again before it’s cut off by the slam of his office door, and the silencing seals activating. 

It’s the same fury that makes his brain start going over every possible move his enemy might make, every step they could take, any possible back door they could sneak through his form. 

When he fights Hashirama, it’s power versus power. When he fights Tobirama, it’s power and brain, versus brain and speed.

This, is not so unlike that. 

The elders have been up his ass for the past month since Obito decided to crash land right into the middle of things. At first, they were weary, any man, Uchiha or not, being welcomed in that did not grow up with the clan was suspicious. 

Then, after a week or two of (mostly) good behavior, and Madara keeping an eye on Obito 24/7, they became power hungry. Their insistence to call off this nonsense about peace and fight fire with Fire (or in Obito’s case, Mokuton with Mokuton) and put the war to an end permanently became their top priority. 

Now, after an entire month of Obito staying in the main household, the elders have switched tactics and are now informing Madara that he should in fact just off Obito while he still can. They insist that he may have their dojutsu but he wields the Senju’s Kekkei Genkai. His blood is too much Senju, and if peace fails he will take their side. It’s a risk he shouldn’t take. 

Madara doesn’t know how many times he can tell them that correspondence with the Senju is good. That the Uzumaki are helping be a middle ground. That he and Hashirama are already planning on making the ceasefire an alliance. 

He doesn’t mention a village, but that possibility hasn’t left him since he sat and dreamed on the cliffs with a boy whose heart has always been too big for his own good. 

So no, this is not so unlike fighting someone who’s brain moves just as fast as his feet. However, Tobirama at least uses reasonable tactics on the battlefield. The elders on the other hand, seem determined to drive him up the wall with their unruly suggestions and comments on how his father  _would have never_. 

Quite frankly he doesn’t give two shits what is father might or might not have done. Madara is determined tosave his  ~~brother~~ clan from being cleared off the map and that means flying in the face of half the Uchiha traditions. 

Madara quickly changes paths and goes the outside route to the front of his house, walking along the covered porch. He watches as the maids and housekeepers fly out of his path. He watches how the children in the yard are running alongside of the porch behind him, giggling in his dissipating fury. How he can feel the chakra of the ninja on guard duty phase quickly through _alarm-confusion-exasperation_. 

He rounds the corner of the porch a little quicker just to see if the children can keep up, and of course, in his distraction, runs straight into Izuna. 

Izuna makes a hard grunt and Madara is sure he can’t breathe for a good two seconds, but catches his little brother before his larger frame sends him on his ass. 

“ _Sage_  Madara, is your ass on fire? who takes corners that fast.” Izuna asks, clearly winded. 

“Sorry, elders” Madara grunts, determinedly ignoring the children’s progression of giggling to smothered laughing. Apparently, they can keep up, as long as Madara keeps running into people. 

Izuna’s seems to take notice then too if his body language is anything to go by.

“Oh really, aniki, you should be more careful not to piss them off, they are our honored elders ya know” Izuna drawls, slowly leaning toward the edge where the children are ducked down. 

“It’s only polite” he finishes and then quickly leans over the edge snatching the nearest child as the others go running, shrieking for mercy. 

Madara rolls his eyes at the sight of little Kagami dangling like a kitten in Izuna’s grip. 

“Look brother! I caught one for you.” Izuna says and Madara can feel the exasperation in the wake of his fury increase tenfold because the expression on Izuna’s face is a shit eating grin that’s only getting wider.

“How kind, Izuna. However, I doubt he wants to sit and watch me do paperwork.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous aniki, the elders are in your office still, you’re not doing paper work.” Izuna fires back. 

Kagami turns his head toward Madara, and sage dammit someone should outlaw curly hair and puppy eyes, and makes a hopeful face at him. 

Kagami lost his parents a couple months ago, and Izuna likes him which means he’s been in the main household as of late. 

Actually, Madara thinks, he hasn’t been in as of late because of their new occupant. 

Madara lets the corner of his mouth twitch up, just to see Izuna’s falter a bit before plucking the bewildered child out of Izuna’s hand and turning toward the front sliding door. 

Obito is turning out to be quite the flight risk. Izuna and Madara have been quick to intercept anytime he seems like he wants to jump out a window whether it’s at the dinner table or in the middle of the night. 

However, Izuna and himself can’t always be there, Madara thinks, so it’s time to introduce him to their other frequent house guest. 

Quickly slipping off his shoes, Madara sets Kagami down to do the same before steering him toward the kitchen where he can hear Obito cursing. 

The man is actually fairly efficient in a kitchen; however, he almost comes off as an inventor, appearing with spices from kami knows where, and steel pots and pans instead of cast iron.

Madara has been trying to find a way to approach Obito about the steel utensils since he hasn’t actually seen where the man’s storage scroll is, or just where the hell he got that kind of stuff in general, however he might just get little Kagami to do the interrogation for him. 

“Obito!” Madara calls out, “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” 

He feels Obito’s chakra tense in the kitchen and mentally rolls his eyes, you’d think he’d tortured him in a cave or something for all that he hates any time Madara comes walking with a surprise, whether it’d be sunflower seeds, which _, yes, Obito, I’ve seen your addiction_ , or the blacksmith wanting to examine Obito’s tanto. 

As he comes up to the counter, he pulls Kagami up and plops him in one of the high seats just to watch Obito’s eyes go wide and the initial surprise of a child being plopped in front of him break down whatever ~~facial expression~~ blank mask he was originally going to turn around with to make himself seem as unapproachable as possible. 

Madara puts one hand on his hip and the other on top of Kagami’s head, because _Ha_ , nobody can resist round eyes and curly hair. 

“This is Kagami, he’s our other frequent house guest and since you’re apparently not considering homicide of any sort, it’s safe to introduce you.”

Obito seems to snap out of whatever flashback daydream he was having and rolls his eyes.

“I was never considering homicide in the first place, thank you. It’s nice to meet you Kagami, I’m Obito.” 

Kagami smiles and Madara can feel his stomach drop because whatever the little brat is about to say is not going to be a greeting, Madara _knows_ okay, and says, “Hi! You’re the guy who crash landed in the middle of a battle right! Did that hurt? Elder Chiko says you fell from heaven but Aunt Naori says you’re probably from the future, coming to tell us all our horrible mistak— OH! The blacksmith said you have a really cool tanto! Can I see— oof!” 

“Breathe, Kagami, and don’t be rude. When you meet somebody, you introduce yourself first and ask invasive questions later.” And time travel? Obito burned himself of a simple heater seal the other day, he can’t even imagine what he’d do with a theoretical time travel seal. Of course Naori was the start of that one, Madara is not even surprised. 

“Sorry, Uncle” Kagami pouts, before brightening back up at Obito, “do you wanna sit at the kotatsu with tea? Then can I ask you questions?” 

Madara rolls his eyes because good lord Izuna has been a horrible influence. 

“Sure, Kagami. Although I doubt I have anything as interesting as Elder Chako—“

“Chiko” Kagami corrects 

“—Chiko, or Naori-san to tell you.” 

Kagami beams, “I bet you do but it’s okay if you don’t.”, before hopping off the high stool and dragging Obito to the other room. 

Madara agrees silently, because he hasn’t asked where Obito has actually been for 20-30 years, or however old he is, but it’s bound to come up eventually. 

Izuna joins his side, silently watching Kagami bombard Obito with questions and demands to see the tanto.

It’s a good sign, that Obito still reacts well to kids. That he still gets that fond look in his eye and smiles kindly. Some people don’t like kids, but people like Obito, those have been through a lot, see the innocence and can’t help but break out a smile at the reminder of all the good in the world. 

Madara had hoped Obito would be one of them. That he wasn’t too far gone in his head to not acknowledge children anymore. 

There’s some sort of stuff ache in his chest that lessens a little at knowing. Madara’s glad to see it and by the way Izuna is eyeing Obito, he’s glad too. Kagami’s a joy to have around even if neither of them will admit it out loud, and he’ll be welcome again, from the looks of it. 

Madara lays a hand on Izuna’s shoulder and walks back towards the front slider. He can’t actually leave the elders alone all day or they’ll come interrupt him at the most Inconvenient time. Better to get it over with, in his opinion, and sets off towards the cluster of signatures. 

Obito’s still a flight risk, but maybe a little lesser one after Kagami gets through with him. 

* * *

The council room has gone so deathly silent that Touka swears the only sound she can hear is the sand seeping through the hour glass.  

It was going good, all things considered, and now her cousin has his murder face on. 

Something she usually only says when referring to Tobirama. 

Right now, she means it for Hashirama. 

Scary, Touka thinks amusedly, although he could do better if he didn’t have literal eye bags underneath his eyes.

Hashirama’s been rightfully busy. Uzushio has chosen now to send executives for a more hands-on approach to helping with the treaty and their impending arrival requires most of Hashirama’s attention. The elders are using this to slip in new things, like Touka herself wouldn’t notice and tell her cousin immediately. Plus, he’s got all the normal duties of a clan head and the heir since Tobirama is out on a very important, very secret, mission that Touka is about two seconds away from breaking into Hashirama’s desk to find out what for. 

Of course, the desk locks itself with Mokuton, so she’ll have to destroy it, but as is, Hashirama can just grow himself a new one. 

Besides, Touka has been helping as much as she rather go hunting, but if the elders say one more snide comment about peace not going to work, she’s going to go hunting at the expense of the people in the room. 

Speaking of, back to the murder face. 

Could use some work but not bad. 

“Excuse me” Hashirama says calmly. It’s not a question and It definitely has enough simmering power to make two of the elders straighten in their seats. 

Touka likes a pissed off Hashirama, it’s good entertainment and Tobirama isn’t here to say otherwise, and even if he was, he can piss off. 

“I said, Hashirama-sama, that going forth with the treaty isn’t wise. Especially when they now have a clansman that has Mokuton and the Sharingan. He clearly has too much Uchiha blood. If this treaty goes to shit, he will take their side.” The brave elder explains again. 

“Is that so” Hashirama responds.

The elders shift in their seats, Touka is about two seconds from getting a snack. 

“If you are worried about Mokuton, have no fear. I’ve read in some old scrolls that theoretically if two users were to face off and ask the forest for help, the trees would freeze due to the influx of chakra, becoming unsure of who to respond to. Tobirama has confirmed this would make a decent amount of sense, if untestable for the time being.” 

Touka is a little concerned now, because she doesn’t think Hashirama is blinking. When was the last time he slept again? Or brushed his hair, it’s hard to tell when he’s got such a tan and has pin straight, hard to mess up, hair. However now that she’s squinting at him..

“Furthermore, it would probably come down to ninuitsu or taijutsu and Obito, while I’m sure is talented, seems to suffer heavy scarring on his side and I’m very used to fighting the Uchiha,  _elders_ , surely you wouldn’t doubt me if it came to that.” Hashirama finishes. 

_Hmm_ , Touka thinks, _definitely isn’t blinking._

“We meant no disrespect, Hashirama-sama, we only meant counsel.” The elder from before, quickly back tracks. 

“Well then!” Hashirama says, emitting sudden false cheer, “since that concern has been solved, I’m sure we can break until the Uzumaki entourage arrives. We should all get ready yes?” 

The elders are quick to agree and shuffle out of the room with haste. Touka thinks this might be because that fake smile Hashirama is wearing doesn’t even reach his cheekbones much less his eyes. 

Touka sighs to herself, Tobirama would be disappointed to see her let Hashirama embarrass them in front of diplomats, or die from sleep deprivation, she knows how he doesn’t sleep well in the summer, already. 

Nightmares about little brothers are the dangerous sorts. 

She gets up and walks toward Hashirama, dragging him up out of his seat 

“Come on cousin, time to go take a nap. It’s next on your schedule, I promise.”

Hashirama pouts at her, “I’m being productive, Touka. I promised Tobirama I would be.” 

“Yeah you also promised Tobirama you’d be alive by the time he got back and working yourself to death won’t achieve that” she retorts dragging him to his room and tossing him towards the bed. Close enough to it anyways.

“Now sleep, or I’ll make you.” 

Like a charm, Hashirama rolls up and seemingly goes to sleep in seconds, whether he is or not doesn’t matter because Touka is still standing there with plenty of hard, swingable type weapons in reach. 

She closes the door on her way out, that threat never gets old no matter the age. 

Now, off to Hashirama’s office because it’s not that she doesn’t trust Hashirama and Tobirama to work out missions between each other, but well... 

She doesn’t. The two are the same as they were when they were children. They, probably unknowingly, edge each other on until the probably normal mission turns into a high-profile mess with plenty of risks and neither of them seem to see a problem with this. 

Touka didn’t get let on this mission assignment, but she bets whatever it is has something to with this pending alliance with the Uchiha and she damn well will find out. 

She slips back into office and back behind desk, and to her pleasant surprise, Hashirama left the desk drawer open. 

Look at that, she doesn’t even have to break the desk. A pity. 

Finding the right scroll takes a little more finesse, but once she finds the paperwork with the most doodling all over it and Tobirama’s signature margin notes, it’s easy to see what mission the two brothers worked out together. The date at the top only confirms it. 

A quick scan apparently isn’t going to cut it as she tries to figure out what the fuck Tobirama is doing. Hashirama has drawn what is a surprisingly accurate drawing of the face of the Daimyo, and the back of Tobirama’s head; presumingly, they are talking? Debating? Staring at each other? 

And holy sage’s balls, their negotiating. Hashirama sent Tobirama to negotiate with the Daimyo. Do the Uchiha know? Does Madara know at least? Is this even related to their little alliance? 

Oh my god, Touka realizes, what if Hashirama has got into his head that fantasy village he used to talk about when he was 12 is a good idea again.  

Tobirama would agree just for the challenge, Sage above and below. 

That’s when she realizes there’s a little street of shops and houses drawn on the bottom of the paper. Most are unlabeled but the three that are, are clearly a flower shop, a BBQ restaurant, and a black smiths shop. 

Yamanaka, Akimichi, Uchiha. 

Between Hashirama’s little different lays of architecture is stiff lines of piping and notes. Lines that seem more fit to fuinjutsu, and kanji. 

Tobirama’s hand. 

Oh fuck no, Touka thinks, they don’t get to do this without anybody else’s say. 

Touka stands back up and marches straight back to Hashirama’s room because fuck his beauty sleep she wants to know just what her other little cousin is negotiating without trying to figure out hieroglyphics for the next two hours. 

She slams the door open, “HASHIRAMA”  

The pile of blankets doesn’t move. 

Her cousin is 6 feet tall and the typical bulky, movable muscle that makes up the Senju family. 

Pillows stuffed under a blanket does not quite match that. 

She’s not a sensor like Tobirama. She can’t ask the trees like Hashirama. 

However, she is their lead huntress, she can smell desperation from a mile away. 

Touka takes the leisure way out the house, rerolling the scroll and tucking it in her belt. Waving to the front guards and leisurely making her way towards the kitchens. 

She wonders if he left the drawer open on purpose, the devious little shit. Hashirama is clan head and that means at least a little ability to manipulate people, even if Hashirama always tends to use it in the strangest of times. 

Like keeping her occupied while he sneaks off to get food instead of sleeping like she told him to. 

And sure enough, ducked down by a very amused looking cook, is the honorable Senju Clan Head, getting his bowl filled bigger than his head. 

She almost feels bad scaring him enough that he almost drops it, It would be a waste of food after all. 

“I didn’t do it!” Hashirama shrieks

“Do what?” She asks calmly. Calmness always freaks the fuck out of Tobirama and Hashirama and she loves it. 

Sure enough, Hashirama droops behind the cook, Nami-san, and mumbles, “it?” 

She rolls her eyes and mentally takes back everything she just said about him being devious, the mans an idiot, and drags him out to one of the more secluded picnic tables and plops the scroll down between them. 

“Explain.” 

Hashirama looks up from stuffing his face with noodles

“Brufhers miffion?” 

“No, your cousin Hika’s mission— of course your brothers mission!” Touka snaps 

“Well Hika went to hunt down that bear in the east so I thought might want an update on that—“

“Wait you sent who to track down what?”

“—But Tobirama’s mission is just a simple diplomatic mission, those aren’t high risk physically or anything cousin, don’t worry.” 

“The fact that you sent somebody else to hunt down that motherfucker—“ 

“I doubt Hika will catch it, Touka.” 

“And not Me, is really a betrayal and I will remember this. And just a normal diplomatic mission? That why you got doodles of the Daimyo and little street shops on this form?” she says waving it in front of his face.

“You can go after it when Hika comes back, she’s more a small game hunter anyways. And yeah, it’s an unproblematic diplomatic mission _withthedaimyo_ ” Hashirama says quickly, stuffing his face with noodles again. 

Touka lets her silence and raising eyebrow convey just what she thinks of that. 

Hashirama doesn’t even have the decency to look bothered, the brat. 

“Tobirama’s not even asking for anything. Just alerting him of the alliance, which yes, I did send a hawk to Madara to tell him too, and hinting at other things.” 

“I thought it was a ceasefire.” Touka refutes, unimpressed. 

“For now” Hashirama chirps around an egg roll. 

“Look, Cousin, I’m all for this continued not killing each other thing we got going with the Uchiha but you can just further alliances without the say of the council and certainty not without the say of Madara. That’s not how alliances work.” 

Hashirama frowns, “I have been talking with Madara, he thinks moving toward an alliance is a good idea, and we’ve talked about having Tobirama be the one to alert the Daimyo since he’s the smartest diplomatically.” 

“Have you.” Touka says flatly, “you have regular correspondence with Uchiha Madara?” 

“Uh, Yeah? Kinda?” Hashirama mumbles around some eggs. 

“Correspondence, I’m sure the elders are well aware of.” Touka continues nonchalantly, picking at her nails. 

His next response gets to buried in the onigiri that Touka honest to the sage can’t hear it. 

“What was that little cousin?” 

“Mos’ of itt” He says around some more rice. 

“Most if it?”

“Some.” 

“...” 

“ _Pleasedonttellthemeverything_ ” Hashirama whispers harshly. 

“Hmm, that’s not good, keeping secrets from the council, Hashirama.” 

“Toukaaa” he whines 

Small mercies, she thinks, having black mail at a time like this. 

“Fine. I won’t tell, IF, you start telling me well in advanced about these little diplomatic missions and the correspondence with Madara. And if Hika comes back empty handed I get to go get the fucker whether Tobirama is back or not”

Hashirama looks torn between elders knowing about his secret correspondence, and letting her go when he still has to shoulder a crap ton of paperwork. 

Decisions, decisions, Touka thinks smugly. 

“Don’t let anybody wake me till late tomorrow. Like late lunch at least.” Hashirama bargains. A seemingly simple request but that means she’s on guard duty for Hashirama which is just _ugh_. 

She lets her poker face make him sweat a little, before nodding her head in agreement and wrapping the scroll back up. 

“Alright”, she says standing up, “I’ll go put this back then.” 

Hashirama nods, firmly stuck back in what remains of his food. 

“Oh, and Hashirama?” She asks sweetly, just to see him freeze, “What drawer?” 

Just because she’s not telling the elders of the letters doesn’t mean she isn’t going to read them for any potential blackmail. 

“Second to last drawer on the right” Hashirama mumbles into his bowl. 

Touka laughs patting him on the shoulder as she strides back toward the main household. 

She might as well have entertainment while on guard duty tonight, and Madara and Hashirama are both dramatic enough to provide something at the very least. 

Touka grins, Tobirama should leave more often, it’s really working out for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI!!! so i started this zombie story and somehow that motivated/inspired me to go ahead and finish this chapter after getting stuck on it like a month ago. funny how things work like that lmao. 
> 
> also it ended up just short of 4k which??? not sure how that happened but I think I'm pretty happy with this chapter actually, so I hope you enjoy too!


	4. But now I'm underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito dreams about people. Izuna kills some people. Madara yells at some people. 
> 
> Hashirama is not present in body, but does find a way to be present in spirit.

“Obito.” Kakashi whispers, “Wake up.”

“Shut up, you bastard, I’m asleep.” He mumbles grumpily, turning over in the signed bedroll, pulling it over his head.

Kakashi sighs, “There’s something there.”

“Is it Kaguya?” Obito murmurs.

“No”

“Is it a Zetsu?” He asks, like they have any way of knowing.

“No, I don’t think so.” Kakashi whispers. He’s twirling a kunai back and forth between his fingers.

Obito reluctantly pulls the cover back to sit up next to his rival turned teammate turned enemy turned friend.

“Don’t see nothing.” He grumps.

Kakashi hums and looks over the little group they have with them. Naruto’s curled into a ball of grief, but Kurama at least has calmed the blonde’s chakra into something manageable.

He has a feeling Kakashi is already planning 10 dozen different ways to tell Sakura Sasuke’s dead tomorrow. Assuming they can make it to meeting up with the other group.

He only had a second but he amaterasued Sasuke’s body when he saw him fall. It was that or get close enough to slash his eyes, but he didn’t have time.

Naruto understood, they’ve all talked about what to do if somebody dies. That doesn’t make his grief any less devastating, considering Sasuke took the hit for him.

If Sakura had been there...

Well, no use on dwelling on the past.

“Go back to sleep.” Kakashi says. Turning away and looking back out into the trees.

“Alright.” Obito agrees. He’s been barely able to control mokuton with how low he is on chakra. He needs it.

He’s lays back down, his back to Kakashi, and just as he’s about to close his eyes, a leaf in the bush across from him detaches and floats to the ground.

He tracks its progress, letting its decent bring his eyes shut.

The leaf hit the ground and Obito can’t help but see glowing yellow eyes beneath the brush where it fell.

He doesn’t scream fast enough.

His eyes are bleeding, his arm is bleeding, he doesn’t have the chakra.

The air fills with chirping bird and Obito snaps his eyes open again to a wooden ceiling, a comfortable bed, and the soothing smell of leftover incense flowing from the other room.

 

 

Obito would be lying if he said he’s getting better about… everything. That’s not to say he hasn’t made improvements.

He hasn’t felt the need to jump out the window lately, Izuna is a delightfully challenging sparring partner, and Madara continues to prove himself to be absolutely nothing like he was as a middle aged reincarnated adult nor the old withered man in the cave.

Obito has, for a lack of better words, adjusted, if not fully comprehend the situation. It’s not like he hasn’t had the time to, but as long as Zetsu is still alive, he can’t allow himself to believe he’s safe. He just— after everything— he just can’t.

In the meantime, he flashes a quick nod to the other shadow in the room as he continues to guide Kagami and his friends slowly and quietly down a hallway that leads to the main living room.

If they could just—

“Madara-sama!” A lackey shouts bursting in. A shadow follows her and quickly greets Obito before dragging him out of the shadows and down the hall to the large meeting room.

Obito carefully does not stab the man, and ignores the cries of betrayal by the children who finally convinced him and Madara to play a prank on Izuna.

It takes a while thirty seconds to get to Obito’s new current position.

Madara is sitting at the head of a long table and Obito was unceremoniously shoved into the seat to his immediate left. The rest of the chairs on the other hand have somehow found themselves to be occupied by Uchiha’s entire full council.

Obito has found out, mostly by simply being in ear shot of Madara’s rants, that this is not normal.

There’s the elders who speak for guidance and out of experience, the commanders, who represent the soldiers, and then a couple of civilians, to represent the smiths and chefs and every other civilian or retired shinobi occupation there is.

They are rarely all together, and most normally only called as one by Madara, or whoever might be the clan head at the time.

Madara did not call the council together. The council called themselves

Well fuck, Obito thinks unmerciful of Madara’s raising blood pressure, this isn’t going to be fun.

He nearly manages to make it not sound gleeful in his head. Almost.

“Madara-sama, we don’t mean to disturb you—

Absolute bullshit, Obito thinks

“— but we have come across multiple items that requires your immediate attention.”

Obito watches Madara’s single eyebrow visible behind his long bangs rise ever so slightly. The poor fucker didn’t even have time to make himself look presentable before they ambushed the two of them where they were slowly herding Kagami and his little friends down towards where Izuna was unsuspectingly waiting in the living room.

“Ah, here is the first item.” One of the old croons says, handing up an innocent looking scroll, except for the fact that there’s the Senju stamp sealing it shut and it’s got the wax seal of the Damiyo’s right next to it.

Madara takes it and deftly slits the seals without so much a glance, and Obito delightfully watches as some of the council cringe as their clan head obliterates the outside of the scroll in the name of opening it. He skims the contents of whatever they just handed him without a single emotion playing out on his face before placing the scroll on the table, and looking up,

“okay, and what’s the problem?”

The council shifts nervously.

“Ah, the Senju correspondence is good news then, Madara-sama?” The amused civilian cook asks. Obito has come to find civilians of this generation are either scared shitless of shinobi or have learned how to sit back and enjoy the show. Clearly, the cook has learned a thing or two over the years.

“Of course.” Madara responds easily, not taking his eyes off the elders at the table.

“Is there anything of note?” One of the Commanders asks. Obito recognizes him as old guard, if for only the way he and Madara constantly butt heads on just about everything.

Obito, being the current point of contention.

“Congratulations on being the first to find out the Daimyo now knows and approves of our cease fire with the Senju. Apparently, it has already begun to help the economic state of our beloved capital.” Madara deadpans, giving Setsuna only the most briefest of glances.

Obito can’t believe Kakashi didn’t believe him when he said he got the sarcastic comments and petty behavior from Madara. The man never ceases to channel the typical smart ass behavior of a teenager being forced to do something they hate.

Truly prime entertainment if one can find the amusement from something like shitty politics.

Setsuna narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious for whatever reason and goes to open his mouth before Madara’s waving his hand, effectively cutting him off, and gesturing to the elder with skunk striped hair and ears pierced to the high heavens.

“The other thing, you wanted to talk about, council.” Madara states blandly.

The elder in question slowly reaches down into the drapes of her kimono before pulling out an ancient looking scroll with the Uchiwa stamped a-crossed it. Even the handles have been carved to look like fire motifs, and Obito feels an odd sense of deja vu wash over him just looking at it.

Madara takes the scroll and shows slightly more finesse when opening this one. A quick glance, and he rolls it back up and places it down before looking back across the long table.

“I’m familiar with the contents elder. Is there a point your trying to make?”

“Ah, Madara-sama, if you are aware of the contents, then surly you know we stray from our destined paths.” The Witch croons, she seems nearly pleased, like she’s just achieved some big win.

“Right.” Madara drawls, suspicious of her seemingly unnecessary happiness, “Just as I’m sure you’re aware things get altered over time in the name of justifying some probably nefarious actions. I have no plans to follow some dusty scroll that will ultimately lead us back to war and bloodshed and, if you haven’t noticed elder, we can’t actually afford it.”

Ah, Obito thinks, now he knows what the scroll was. Zetsu had him put it out in some easy to find place for the elders of the future, in hopes to sway Fugaku a little more. It failed, of course, because trying to trick Fugaku with an old dusty artifact was as pointless as trying to sneak up on him.

Obito had just moved onto Itachi instead, but that’s hardly the point.

Madara is in fact right about it, it has been altered. However, the alterer goes by Zetsu, and not whatever nameless Uchiha, Madara might have had in mind.

The elder narrows her eyes, clearly about to start an argument, and huh, Obito realizes, this is probably where the yelling starts to pick up, if the slowly curling of Madara’s fingers into a fist where it’s sitting on his lap is anything to by.

A knock on the door quickly cuts the tension like a rubber band finally releasing. Everybody stares as Izuna opens the door and leans in just the barest amount.

Obito doesn’t blame him, he wouldn’t want to touch this conference room with a 10-foot pole no less actually go in when it’s occupied with people.

“Sorry to interrupt, Nii-san, but we have visitors at the front gate, and it requires your immediate attention.”

At once, everyone at the table is standing and Madara is out of the room trailed only quick enough by his mop of hair.

Obito stays behind, still not quite sure why he was also dragged in there to begin with, before trailing his way out.

He’s not sure if he should be surprised or not at the fact that Izuna is waiting just beyond to walk with him.

“Izuna.” He greats neutrally, “Shouldn’t you be standing over your brother’s shoulder, intimidating whosever at the gate?”

Izuna shoots him a small strained smile that looks weird filled with amusement before steering Obito back into the main house and shutting the door

Obito feels the wards around the house light up in his mind’s eye and pulls Izuna to a stop.

Izuna frowns slightly but at Obito’s raised brow, rolls his eyes and talks.

“The people at the gate are likely here to kill you, but are trying to get in with some diplomacy first.” Izuna says flatly, “So if you could stop pushing against the wards that are used to keep people out, that would be great.”

Obito looks away in embarrassment before kicking his shoes off and walking into the house proper.

“I can deal with assassins.” Obito says mulishly. If he can temporarily survive a goddess, some half ass shinobi don’t stand a chance, “who even tries that while they have diplomats here? And why weren’t you dragged headfirst into the meeting hall earlier?”

“Hagomoro” Izuna chirps, “they aren’t happy with the potential future alliance of the Senju-Uchiha since it potentially stints our Uchiha-Hagoromo alliance. Besides it’s not like they’ll use their own family members to try and kill you— they don’t have the numbers to waste— so they’ll send some third party and said third party will be cut down before they even reach this house.”

“As for the meeting,” Izuna continues, “If the elders initiate full council than someone’s got to stand guard still. Heir is usually left to it since they assume that many bodies will be able to solve whatever problem there is anyways.”

Obito mulls that over for a minute as Izuna waves off some guard or another before retrieving his sword from his room and gesturing for Obito to come sit down with him.

Obito does, if only to reapply his point that he can really take care of himself.

Izuna huffs in response, “Of course you can, but it’s sorta a political thing that we don’t even let the assassins reach you, much less get close enough to trade blows.”

Obito frowns but accepts it anyways, until Izuna opens his mouth again.

“Besides it’s not like you’ve complained about not defending yourself against any of the other assassins sent to kill you yet.”

“Excuse me?” Obito sputters, “What fucking assassins?”

“Exactly” Izuna smirks

“You know I win our sparring matches.” Obito snipes

“A third of the time, sure.” Izuna agrees smugly, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

Obito huffs, crossing his arms, “We’ve got limits on them, if we didn’t you’d be toast.”

“Yeah?” Izuna challenges, raising an eyebrow. He leans forward letting his long silky black hair roll over his shoulder again, before blinking innocently as his eyes shine red.

“You sure about that?” He teases.

Obito rolls his eyes. Just because he doesn’t actually know what Izuna’s mangekyo does, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a huge advantage with his own. Izuna would still put up a fight of course, he’s smart where his brother is strong, but Izuna died via Hirashin and Kumai basically appears the same way.

“Listen, Heir, I won’t let you win just because you sit all high and—-“

Obito doesn’t finish his sentence. He’s cut off with steel and wind whistling through the air and all Obito can do it freeze as Izuna stabs his short blade right next to Obito’s face.

His eyes shoot wide and for a moment, he thinks he overstepped. Pissed off someone from the main family again, spoke out of place, and Izuna is close. Close enough to smell the tea he was drinking. Close enough for his fringes to tickle Obito’s cheek while his long ponytail spills over his shoulder and onto his chest. He’s got a hand on Obito’s thigh, balancing precariously over the table and Obito.

He glances at Izuna’s face for the worst but the other man is looking over his shoulder and Obito follows the line of sight just in time. Blood drips down onto his shoulder from Izuna’s blade and a body slides off the sword and hits the ground with a loud thud.

Izuna breathes out and then pulls back, grimacing, “Sorry.”

Obito blinks, barely gives the cooling corpse a second glance.

“Sorry?” He parrots stupidly.

“For getting blood on you?” Izuna says, although he sounds doubtful, “and for getting in your space. I know you don’t like people touching you, especially the scars and I—“

“Stop.” Obito interrupts, “Just, stop. Please.” He’s sure his face has gone bright red. Izuna looks embarrassed too. The other man just saved him from an assassin he didn’t know was there and all he can think about is that he might of offended Obito. God the main family is the fucking worst.

“Thank you.” Obito says, not looking at Izuna. When did that houseplant get there? It feels like Mokuton. When did they get a house plant from Hashirama? Or actually, when did Hashirama sneak in a houseplant?

Izuna clears his throat, “Right, well, that’s why I’m here. Point proven and all that. Although if you could help me move him... uh” he trails off dumbly.

Obito gets up and throws the body over his shoulder in one fluid motion, ignoring Izuna’s sputtering.

“I’m already covered in blood, I can take him wherever and then change.” He says

“Oh sure.” Izuna agrees, “Just signal a guard on the foyer and they’ll dispose of him”

Obito does and when he comes back not two minutes later he catches Izuna doing the fucking impossible. Or at least, not something he thought an Uchiha could manage.

The blood is lifting itself out of the floor boards into a condensed ball of blood and water and Izuna carefully lowers it down into an empty bucket.

“What.” Obito deadpans from the doorway.

Izuna turns toward him in surprise and tilts his head like a confused baby bird.  
“Huh?”

“Did you just... move blood?”

“Oh. yeah.” Izuna says and then smirks, “I saw Tobirama pull the blood straight out of someone once and while I can’t do that if I add a bit more water I can lift it off the ground.”

“Besides, it’d take forever to scrub out.”

“Right...” Obito says. Tobirama can rip blood out of people? What a time to be alive, he thinks, and then wonders, how does Izuna avoid that?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by some fresh formal wear hitting his face.

“Impressed?” Izuna coos mockingly, “go change, you stink.”

“Fuck you, I carried the body out.”

“If you had dodged I wouldn’t have had to stab him, I could have knocked him out.”

“If you’re wards were any good—“

“Not my fault, I didn’t make them—“

Obito throws his hands up and stomps away towards the bathroom. He’s going to have to scrub the blood off him, get dressed into some uncomfortable formal wear for the two seconds he has to be on show, and then deal with Izuna being cocky the rest of the night.

Half way through of abusing his shoulder in the name of being clean, he pauses and realizes that Izuna probably could’ve just lifted the blood off his clothes.

 _Oh, fuck you_ , He thinks.

_I fucking hate the main family._

 

He was absolutely right in that he stood in front of the Hagomoro and their diplomats for a good couple minutes and the was escorted away.

The Hagormo at least we’re smart enough to decline they had any thing to do with the assassin. They even offer some shinobi for Obito’s extra protection but he finds out later Madara basically shut them down in the rudest, yet most diplomatic way possible and he’s honestly sorry he kind of missed it.

Izuna retells it with grand flourishes and then explains how the Hagomoro were so flustered they left right after despite it being late enough they could have stayed in the diplomats quarters and the Uchiha would have had to suck it up and host them for the night.

“Good riddance.” Obito says flatly, taking another sip of tea.

“Honestly.” Izuna agrees, “I’d rather host the Senju brothers overnight again. They can be trusted to be honorable at the least.”

Obito hums in agreement and they lapse into silence once more. There’s a slight wind tonight, with a cloudy overcast that creates dramatic shadows across the back yard of main house.

The air outside is still fresh, despite it, and Obito takes it for what it’s worth, placing the now empty tea cup by his side and leaning his forearms onto his knees to lift his head up and into the wind.

He closes his eyes and listens to nothing but crickets and the distant sound of fire crackling and the underlying smell of smoke from far off. Children are giggling somewhere and he hears the guards shift above him, stretching out locked knees and the such.

Even at night, the Uchiha compound is alive, and Obito hated it before. Hates it now for everything it reminds him of.

But when he thinks about the alternative, about Kaguya, he sucks it up. Izuna is good company, and the more positive memories he makes, the more he’ll not feel like an outcast. Not, that Izuna has stood for that but it doesn’t erase his entire childhood either.

He hears Izuna shift next to him and his long outer robe gently scrapes Obito’s side as he stands.

Obito peaks an eye open to Izuna holding both their tea cups. When he catches Obito’s eye, he lifts them in explanation and treads lightly into the house.

Not silently, but the creaking of wood is a strange comfort where many things are not.

Another gust of wind and he lets his eyes open again and look out into the trees. The clouds fully block the mood then, bringing the yard into full darkness except for the giant light of nearby fires.

He watches the long-tapered limbs of one of the pine trees sway in the wind until one of the loose branches lets go.

Obito watches the branch tumble off lower branches, shaking off sharp pine needles all the way down. It hits the ground hard enough to send old browned needles up into the air, and Obito watches them glow and reflect off the yellow golden eyes crouched in and behind the thin stalk of the pine tree.

Obito watches an androgynous body stand up, eyes never straying, despite knowing it must have been caught.

Obito, frozen to his spot on the porch knows that is not an assassin sent by the Hagomoro.

It’s his worst nightmare.

He screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested I wrote a spin off to this chapter not too long ago. I stuck this work in my pool noodles series, so the spin off should appear as part 2 of that series. It picks up right after Izuna teases him about the assassins. :)
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> ALSO I’m using my tumblr more often now, and I’ve made it look presentable ish so if you prefer that platform to talk I’m over there as deanna-ambles. Hope you enjoy!


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